The Adventures of a Priest
by butterfly-sparkle-man
Summary: Tharr had always wanted to be a priest of the Light for the Alliance. Now he is of age, and his training has begun . . . This is my first fanfiction, so please read and review! Rated T just in case
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don' town WoW, or work for Blizzard. If I did, I'd be rich, and I'm not. Sorry. **

_This is my first fanfiction ever, and I'd like to become an author someday, so please read and review! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)_

Tharr was your average poor seventeen year old - somewhat tall, pale, with light brown hair hanging down over his eyes in an unkept mess. He was shy, and hadn't really made any friends, as he usually just stayed at home with his mother, dreaming about becoming a priest of the Light - he'd wanted to become a priest ever since his father died in The war against the Horde, so that he could help and heal those injured in battle.

Today was the day he came of age (three weeks past his seventeenth birthday), and he'd spent hours trying to figure out what to wear, and how he'd approach Brother Roge, the only priest at the Northshire Chapel, to convince him to train him in priesthood. He'd cut his hair and neatly combed it to the side, and he wore his regular old boots, some fairly clean and newish brown breeches, and a new, crisp and clean green shirt that his mother had gotten him as a gift.

He stood in front of the Chapel, looking up at the building. It was made of solid grey-white stone and had many windows. Just as he was going to brave a foot inside Brother Roge walked out, wearing a nondescript brown robe. He was shorter and paler than Tharr, with bare feet, and his head was shaved bald like a monk's. He had a chubby face that matched his growing belly, and it had the look of someone who often smiled. His eyes twinkled mischeviously.

"Well who do we have here, dearie?" He asked, not unkindly, and with a faint accent not usually found in human lands (Tharr and Brother Roge were both human).

"I'm, uh, my name is, um, is - is Tharr, Brother Roge." Tharr stammered, his mouth dry.

"I see you already know my name! Don't feel bad - most people do." Brother Roge whispered theartrically. They both laughed at that, and still grinning, Brother Roge said, "See? We'll knock some of the shy outta ya yet, my boy! But now, to the real issue. There something needs being said? I sure do hope nobody's ill."

"No, actually." Tharr replied. "I was wondering, um, if you, uh," he swallowed, "would train me to be a priest?"

"Of course! No need to be so worried, my boy! The Light is always in need of more followers. We've actually got a spare room ready for another guest. Shall we?" He indicated the entrance to the Chapel.

Pas they walked in and up the stairs, they were greeted by the three other trainess, all wearing the same thing - an off-white robe with blue markings - and each carrying a gift. The first to approach them was a fellow human about Tharr's height. "Hiya newbie - I'm Marc." He said. "The first thing you'll learn is to always wear these robes - they keep the heat out. Oh, and don't bother trying to keep your complexion looking like Brother Roge's - you'll soon look like me." He indicated his deep tan, before giving Tharr a robe identical to what all the others were wearing.

The second was a strong looking Draenei, bulging with muscles and slightly taller than Tharr. "I'm Torjoutan. It would be wise for you to concentrate non weapons training - you shall soon increase in teaming and strength, and if the stories of the world are to be believed, you'll need it." He said in a thick accent, before giving Tharr a plain but stout wooden quarter staff.

The last was a tall Night Elf, who towered over all of them, with long purple hair tucked neatly into a braid. She said in a musical voice, "Discipline will help you most in life, my fellow Brother," and gave Tharr a hand-made ring, saying that it would help him focus.

Continuing on, they made their way to his room, which was the last on the left. Opening the door, they saw that it was indeed ready for him. A comfortable looking bed sat in the left hand corner, cobered in a light blue quilt and three large, plush, goose - feather pillows. An empty wardrobe made of beautifully polished cherry wood sat in front of the bed. In the opposite corner sat an oak desk, with extra rolls of parchment and a feather in a jar of ink, ready to go. Dominating the room was a circular rug depicting some runes of the Light in blue and white, with the sun shining upon it from a window. A rose - scented barrel of water sat beside the door, and the fireplace crackled warmly in front of the rug.

"Ah, here we are, my boy! All nice and situated for you. I'll let you add a few homy touches of your own, but remember - your mine for the next seven year, until you become a priest." He winked, smiling at that, and said before walking away, "Oh, wait. I forgot something - my welcome gift," and with that, he tossed a slightly bulging bag of coins on the bed. "Keep that - you'll need the silver for yourself."

Tharr walked into the room, heart nearly bursting out of his chest. A bag of silver coins?! For him?! He'd never even touched anything of real value before, and now here he was, in a room full of it! He leaned his new staff on the wall by the door before closing it, and set his robe on the bed with his new money pouch, admiring the ring that the Night Elf Narronya had given him. The ring was made of solid gold, and had been fashioned to look like a bunch if intertwining leaves. He slipped it in, smiling, and quickly changed into his robe, folding up his other clothes and shoving them into the back of his wardrobe. Picking up his money pouch, he set it on the desk, then laid down on the bed, sinking into the soft pillows and blanket, sighing contentedly. His new life had just begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about the delay - I'll try to upload a new chapter a week, until this 'book' is done, kk? Also - I updated Chapter One - y'all might want to head back to it and check it out - I think it's kinda cool. But until I finish Chapter Two, please enjoy this sneak peak into it!**

Weeks had past since he first set foot into Brother Roge's Chapel - about four months, to be precise. He had trained and trained, soon equaling his brothers and sister in skill. He could even summon up a bit of the Light when the need need arose, but he could only use it to heal bruises thus far. He also now knew the basics of fighting with a staff, and was pretty decent with it, thanks to Torjoutan, and thanks to Narronya, he no longer had that annoying stutter, and was becoming less and less shy. She even had told him before that he had a great mind, and if he practiced, he could one day summon up great forces of the Light, and that he might be destined to be a great priest - one of the greatest. He also had begun to develop the deep tan like Marc had said, and was forming the small,wiry muscles usually found in a priest, thanks to Torjoutan. And the rigorous training system Brother Roge had set up for them, which included an obstacle course in the forest, weapons training in which Torjoutan was only too happy to oblige, and the cleaning of the entire Chapel twice a week.

His room had changed rather drastically, too. His wardrobe was now full of newer, more expensive clothes, and the window now had a creamy white curtain over it to give him some privacy. His desk was now piled high with priestly notes and scribbles, along with letters from his mother and replies that he hadn't sent yet. A pack full of scraps of cloth, dyes, and a needle and thread sat at the foot of his bed - he had gotten one of his moms friends to train him in tailoring, and he had already made his mother a beautiful blue gown with silver buttons that he planned to give to her during Brewfest along with an aged bottle of mead her found.


End file.
